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"So," Lynette says from the doorway. She’s lurking, and it feels weird not to announce herself. "Today’s the day, right?"
Jack glances up from the apple he's been fiercely contemplating, chin resting on the crumb-laden table. He looks surprised to see her, which is fair. If she's being honest, Lynette's sort of avoided the break room since the breakup.
For some reason, Jack shoots to his feet to greet her: “Oh. Hey, Lynette.” It’s uncharacteristically almost chivalrous of him, and she has to suppress a snort.
“AP Bio exam today, I hear.” He raises an eyebrow, and she goes on, “I had a conversation with Heather yesterday. Very interesting.”
“They usually are.”
“I don't just run into Heather, Jack.”
“Oh.” He blinks, confused. She wonders if she should explain the drop-ins and little notes from his students lately, their best attempt at a subtle campaign Lynette’s suddenly certain Jack knows nothing about. Not that she’d truly suspected he put them up to it, it’s just… sweet, really, how they’ve latched onto him. She wonders whose idea it was to take turns with these updates about whatever they think will cast their teacher in the best light.
“Sounds like you've had an eventful few weeks.”
He grimaces. What’s that abo - oh. Right, the breakup with Shayla. Lynette's heard about it, obviously; the grapevine is hale and hearty at Whitlock, especially working across from Joyce.
“In class,” she clarifies, to rescue him. “Prepping for the exam.”
Not that she isn’t curious. Anyone would be, right? It’s just none of her business.
“Ah.” He rocks back and forth, hands in his pockets. “Yeah, just letting the kids do their thing, mostly. Nothing crazy.”
She fights back a smile. From what she heard, it was a bit more than that. But this is Jack Griffin, and he has a reputation to protect.
"Can I tell you something?"
He's been off kilter since she walked in. So when she replies with "I can keep a secret," she mimes a key twist, then offers a wink to lighten the mood.
He quirks half a smile, then back to staring at the apple, plucking it off the table to twist in his hand.
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I hope those little nerds do well. I don't know, it's important to them, and…"
Lynette touches his arm. She doesn’t mean to do it; it’s just instinct. Something flashes across his face, just for a second. She should probably ignore it. Old habits, right?
“They’re all stupid smart, I’m sure they’ll do fine. Heck, Sarika’s probably making the proctors cry as we speak.”
At last, that provokes a wry grin. “She’s not the only one. Marcus can pull his schtick with devastating accuracy when the occasion calls for it. And no one meeting Grace for the first time is sufficiently prepared for what’s about to hit them.”
As usual, Jack brightens talking about his kids. In some ways, they’ve filled a niche for each other. Not that he’d ever admit it, but his students gave Jack something to genuinely care about - always through sixteen layers of snark, of course – while Jack’s taught the smartypants how to lighten up and live a little.
Things start to feel more normal as the apple bounces from one hand to another. Lynette’s mouth starts moving before her mind catches up. "Can I ask you something?"
Jack looks her up and down. He's pretending to ponder for dramatic effect – for what other reason does Jack Griffin do anything? – but she still takes a moment for gratitude that she put on the green paisley skirt this morning. "For you? I'll allow it."
"Do you ever miss this?"
A long beat. Lynette wonders if she should clarify, backpedal, turn away. She meant to make it sound more friendly-ambiguous, but something about this stilted conversation keeps pulling no punches.
"Yeah," Jack eventually answers, a little roughly. "I miss this."
There’s a fractional pause between those last two words. Like everything else, it hangs between them, a gravity to catch both by surprise.
Lynette Hofstadter has a tendency toward impulsivity. So declares every report card she ever brought home, K through 12. It’s the reason she broke her arm twice in the same spot, two summers in a row. It’s been the source of many fights with her sister, and every memory they still laugh about. It’s the start of all her great stories, and the abrupt end of more than a few.
Including, maybe, this one.
"What would you say to a drink after work? Just to get your mind off this test."
Jack regards her almost as intensely as the apple. She feels sort of... itchy, almost. A little giddy, weightless, like the leap off the dock before hitting the lake. "Nothing crazy," she offers.
Jack smiles. Lynette bites her lip.
"Nothing crazy," he echoes.